


Malleable

by K_dAzrael



Category: Marvel, Thor (2011), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Fic of Fic, I See Dead People, Other, Plot What Plot, ceiling Laufey is watching you fornicate, hogun/byleistr is canon now, overuse of the royal we, sex is funny, what is this I don't even, your genitals are weird no yours are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_dAzrael/pseuds/K_dAzrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Surely Hogun is not going to risk losing his nether regions to frost bite simply on the off-chance a Jotun prince might have a... <i>tendresse</i> for him?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malleable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheHummingbirdMoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHummingbirdMoth/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Morass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/284347) by [TheHummingbirdMoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHummingbirdMoth/pseuds/TheHummingbirdMoth). 



> I’m just going to leave this here and sneak quietly away. I’m sorry, ‘Bird, I really am. Your Byleistr ended up reminding me of [Tommy Udo](http://filmfanatic.org/reviews/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/kiss-death-widmark2.jpg) in _Kiss of Death_ , in that when he laughs you’re not sure whether to pat him on the head or make the sign of the cross.

Hogun’s habitual silence had given him a reputation for being joyless. In actual fact, Hogun the so-called Grim enjoyed all the typical pursuits which Asgardians held dear: namely, adventuring, carousing – and (under the right circumstances) lovemaking. His taciturnity came from the observation that those who were first to open their mouths were generally first to bring a world of trouble on their own heads (case in point, Thor Odinson; if cited precedent were needed, Fandral the Dashing).

Thus, when Hogun opened his mouth to interject during the crisis talks in progress around one of the palace fireplaces, he did so with a heavy dread creeping over his soul.

“The frost giants could help us.”

Thor, Sif, Volstagg and Fandral each closed their mouths with a sharp clack and stared at him.

“I’m just saying,” he persisted. “the fire giants wouldn’t have a chance against the Cask of Ancient Winters. It seems obvious.”

“Hogun,” said Fandral, with an air of strained patience, “I would tell you that the last time Asgardians set foot in Jotunheim we were sworn at and bodily threatened for our trouble, except – oh yes! – it does occur to me that _you were of that very party_!”

“They don’t hate _all_ of us,” Hogun tapped the table to emphasize this crucial point.

Each of the assembled warrior friends looked at each other accusingly. Hogun sighed, realising he would, in fact, have to spell it out. “Prince Byleistr... expressed an interest.”

“In who?” Sif demanded, drawing herself up in premature indignation as she waited for Hogun to speak her own name.

Hogun rubbed at his chin and looked away. “Me.”

At first there was booming laughter, but the sounds of mirth grew slightly uncomfortable before trailing off into incredulous snorts. Hogun folded his arms over his chest and stared each of them down.

“Oh,” said Volstagg. “You’re serious.”

*~*~*

Everything was so awkward that they had to break off the war council to go drinking.

“They only have one gender, you know,” Thor confided after his third flagon. “Some call themselves men and some women, but they’re all... malleable,” he said, giving a mysterious wave of his fingertips. “Down there.”

“How do you know _that_?” Sif demanded, almost choking on a mouthful of beer.

Thor looked up sheepishly. “Balder told me.”

“How does _Balder_ know?!”

“Loki told him.”

(No-one asked how _Loki_ knew – the trickster’s very name was a byword for perversity.)

“This is all academic,” Fandral objected. “Surely Hogun is not going to risk losing his nether regions to frost bite simply on the off-chance a Jotun prince might have a... _tendresse_ for him! Male or female aside, it isn’t even physically possible for him to seduce a giant!”

“History would suggest otherwise,” said Sif. “After all, Odin’s mother was–” the noise of alarm Thor made stopped her from finishing the sentence.

“– And what about Skaði and Njörðr?” Volstagg supplied (this was an acceptable example and everyone nodded and murmured assent).

“Aye,” said Fandral thoughtfully, “they were Jotun and Vanir, yet contrived to marry and couple.”

“Well then – it’s decided!” Thor announced, thumping his flagon on the table. “Brave Hogun here will sacrifice his virtue for Asgard!”

“I didn’t say I would actually...” Hogun rolled his eyes and sighed, finding his objections lost beneath all the rousing cheers and calls for fresh drink.

Fandral gave a flourishing twiddle of his moustache and raised a staying hand to silence the assembly: “Yet – _brave_ Hogun indeed! – never let it be said that there is a quest the Warriors Three will shrink from! We’ll go with you,” he gave everyone else at the table a meaningful glance. “We will _all_ go.”

“No,” said Hogun, actually raising his voice to convey his deadly seriousness. “Absolutely not!”

*~*~*

The darkness and barrenness of Jotunheim had been eerie enough when Hogun had five stout warriors beside him. Alone, the jagged, unforgiving landscape resembled nothing so much as a scene from a vivid nightmare. Allowing himself one sigh of apprehension, Hogun ducked his head against the stinging cold and made his slow, tedious way through the snow.

The royal city had undergone significant restoration – there was less in the way of strewn masonry and shattered glaciers, and majestic needle-sharp spires now rose through the dusky cloud cover. Still, to the untrained eye it looked empty, and the first sign of life or movement came only when a flying icicle struck the ground in front of Hogun’s foot. He halted but stood his ground, narrowing his eyes against the wind-whipped snow flurries to descry shapes moving beyond the cupola of ice that apparently marked the entrance to the Jotun palace.

He could hear rumbling whispers and laughter emanating from within, and then the scornful voice of Helblindi. “Are there not ways enough to meet with death in Asgard that you must beg for it here?”

“It is not death I seek, o king, but an audience.”

More laughter, this time distinctly incredulous.

“Well,” Helblindi answered, “our last fool’s head currently grins on a pike, so we have need of diversion.”

Hogun stepped inside and let his eyes adjust to the greater darkness. Helblindi sprawled at ease on the throne, white eyes wandering sightlessly over the friezes of the carved ceiling. Hogun stared at the patch of shadow by the Jotun king’s shoulder, and after a moment Byleistr leaned forward into view as if he was resolving himself out of the darkness. His rapidly moving lips curved into a smile.

“Well?” Helblindi prompted. “Speak your piece, Aesir.”

“I am not of that race,” Hogun said in a low, even voice. “Although I have lived among them.”

Helblindi looked bored. “Get to the fucking point. What do you _want_ , not-Aesir?”

“I want your assistance.”

The laughter reverberating off the walls was almost deafening, and in the near distance Hogun could feel the tremors of a minor avalanche.

“Alright, you have given us amusement quite enough.” Helblindi turned his head towards his retinue and gave a haughty jerk of his chin. “Kill him.”

In a quick, darting movement Byleistr stepped forward and placed a restraining hand on Helblindi’s shoulder, and the king raised a long index finger. “Wait!”

The younger brother whispered something in the king’s ear, causing Helblindi to give a doubtful frown. “Are you serious? I’m not in the mood for your strange jokes, Byleistr.”

Byleistr said something even more emphatic and Helblindi sat back and heaved a sigh. “Very well. Come closer, not-Aesir.”

When Hogun got within range Helblindi leaned forward and stretched out his hands in a grabbing motion. As Hogun took an abrupt step back, booted heel loudly grinding on the ice, Helblindi made a tutting sound. “There is no need to be so skittish – we do not plan to throttle you.”

“I meant no offence, king, but the touch of the Jotnar is harmful to my kind.”

Helblindi gave a sigh of impatience. “Only when we wish it to be.”

Gingerly, Hogun stepped forward and allowed Helblindi to feel his way up his arms until he was touching the planes of the grim warrior’s face. There was no burn of cold, but Hogun could feel his own warmth leaching into the tips of the giant’s fingers. After a few moments Helblindi drew back and shook out his fingers, apparently finding the sensation unpleasant.

“I will never understand you, brother,” he told Byleistr with a curl of his lip. “He has fur – like an animal.”

Byleistr gave one of his sharp, jarring giggles.

“So,” Helblindi said, “it seems that Prince Byleistr – for reasons not to be comprehended – finds your stunted, hairy form to be pleasing.” He beckoned Hogun closer with one crooked finger and said, in a much quieter and more intimate voice, “our baby brother is yet to know another’s touch. If you could see your way to, shall we say, unburdening him of his ignorance, we might hear your entreaties with a more sympathetic ear.”

Putting himself in mind of what the ever-gallant Fandral would say in this position, Hogun bowed low (for the benefit of the rest of the room) and answered: “I attend his highness’ pleasure.”

*~*~*

Hogun found himself following Byleistr through a series of doorways and corridors set at a steep incline. He was hard-pressed to keep up with the prince’s long strides on such a slippery surface, and Byleistr barely seemed to look back to check if he was following. Just when Hogun felt his trembling leg-muscles would give out, Byleistr halted by a large hole in the curved wall – apparently an aperture to let in what little light was to be had in Jotunheim.

Byleistr seemed to have become critically preoccupied in one of his solitary conversations, lips moving at a low murmur and rubbing his hands together continually as a housefly would its two front legs.

“Who are you talking to, prince?” Hogun asked him.

Byleistr’s eyes ranged around the landscape below and then snapped back to him. It was an eerie feeling, as if he was being looked both at and though, like a Midgardian x-ray.

“Ancestors,” Byleistr replied, showing his very even rows of sharp teeth. “Don’t you talk to yours?”

“No,” Hogun admitted.

Byleistr regarded him with sharp disapproval. “They must find that very frustrating, being ignored. Don’t you think?”

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

Byleistr’s eyes wandered again and he laughed at something he either saw or heard.

“Are they always with you?” Hogun enquired, feeling the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Byleistr shrugged. “They are more or less clear, depending on how I look, but it hurts my eyes to try and see only one world for too long. Hel is a place, just like Asgard and Jotunheim, but all places can be here, now.” He squinted at Hogun. “Do you see what I mean?”

“I think such seeing is beyond me, prince.”

“It is not for everyone,” Byleistr gave him a sly look. “My dear brother has wit and words, but not sight – for I have more than enough of that for both of us.” He eased himself down to sit upon the windowsill (or the sill of where a window should have been) and began to drum his fingers. “You can kiss me now.”

Trying not to show any trepidation, Hogun stepped closer and leaned in to touch their mouths together. While there was no burning cold, there was teeth and tongue in excess of what Hogun was prepared for – Byleistr licked at this whole mouth, inside and out and bit Hogun’s lips in an action that felt just shy of mauling.

“I liked that,” Byleistr told him, sucking at his own teeth in a way Hogun found utterly obscene and hopping to his feet to take off up the helter-skelter incline of the tower again. “I want to show you my room now. I’ve never had a room before – it’s very exciting.”

*~*~*

Everything in the chamber was made of ice – chairs, table, even the bed – although Hogun was relieved to note that this latter was at least spread with furs. There was no door to block off the entrance, and Hogun wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or a bad.

Byleistr cast off his loincloth and shrugged out of the light (and apparently decorative) garment of mail that covered his shoulders, then threw himself onto the bed and looked at Hogun with a sort of avid curiosity. Hogun took the opportunity to glance at the area between the Jotun prince’s spread thighs to discover the truth behind the Agardians' wild speculations. He came up with nothing – literally, nothing – for the giant’s pudendum was rounded and perfectly smooth.

 _Well bugger_ , he thought, wondering how he was expected to get on with pleasuring someone as androgynous as a child’s doll. Another thought came swiftly to mind – Helblindi had said his brother was untouched. Was it possible the second prince had been kept in ignorance of his own essential difference?

“Are you all like that?” he asked, gesturing vaguely.

“Like what?” Byleistr began stroking himself with the palm of one hand, making a rocking movement with the heel of it that was akin to kneading dough.

Hogun blinked. Well, as long as the giant could feel pleasure, his form wasn’t particularly important, he decided, moving to join Byleistr on the bed before cautiously reaching out with his own hand.

Byleistr guided his fingers to what felt like a hidden seam, and there was a sudden blossoming of slickness and welcoming depth. ‘Malleable’, Thor had said (Balder said Loki said), and whatever path the word had come by, it was indeed appropriate. It seemed as if Hogun’s fingers were working what was there into not just arousal, but _form_.

Byleistr had his eyes closed (which made him significantly less unnerving) and was making his enjoyment known through a resonant, rumbling sound in his chest. When he grew impatient with Hogun’s attentions he began to drag the Asgardian warrior effortlessly this way and that by his tunic.

“Come on, funny little Asgardian. Show me what _you_ have.”

Hogun was certainly not going to undress in the frigid air, but he pulled his breeches down enough to get his prick out – which (seemingly out of sheer perversity) was already mostly hard. Byleistr’s expression was one of fascination – he tugged at the offered member and seemed delighted by the way the could make the foreskin move back and forth. The sight of his prick almost completely enveloped by a huge indigo hand was much more arousing than he had expected, and Hogun found himself offering his mouth for another disturbing variation on a kiss.

As he was engaged in trying to move his head so that Byleistr wouldn’t actually bite _through_ his lip, the prince rearranged him with the use of only his powerful legs, thighs cradling Hogun’s hips and pulling him in. Before he had even had time to consider how (or even _if_ ) the encounter would actually work, Hogun was sliding into the grip of the Jotun’s indefinable sex and rocking against him, causing his partner to let out truly alarming bellows of what was apparently mutual bliss.

Remembering his duty, Hogun strived hard to wring more of these sounds, throwing his back into delivering deep, powerful thrusts that had him sweating in despite of the surrounding cold. Just as he had begun somewhat desperately to wonder how to tell when a Jotun had reached orgasm, Byleistr arched his back, gave a full body shudder and suddenly... everything between them was very wet. Then Hogun felt two expansive palms grasping his buttocks and pulling him in hard against the sharp protrusions of Byleistr’s hipbones, and all he could do in response was twist uselessly and come, gasping against the giant’s chest.

When Byleistr sighed and finally released him, Hogun struggled to readjust his clothing, then allowed himself to fall sideways and slump onto the bed’s unforgiving surface.

After a few moments he heard the now familiar, jarring laugh again. “Yes, they are,” the Jotun was murmuring. “Yes, yes.”

“What?” Hogun rolled over and watched Byleistr, his red eyes flickering and fingertips tapping on his own bare stomach.

“Oh,” Byleistr seemed surprised that Hogun was still there. “My father says Asgardians are good fucks.”

Hogun glanced wildly around the room, not knowing what he was expecting to see and giving a bone-deep shiver that was nothing to do with the cold.

The prince stretched, looking very pleased with himself. “If I help you with your fire giants, will you come back and do it again?”

Hogun opened his mouth to ask how Byleistr knew, but then thought better of it. There was something about the bright, shrewd quality of the his smile that reminded Hogun of nothing so much as Loki, and for that he felt himself shiver all over again.


End file.
